


Baby

by Captain_Assbut_at_221B



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby, Cute, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, No Spoilers, but like a kiss or two, ending, i cant tag, life from Baby's perspective, little angsty, no smut really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 22:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21309577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Assbut_at_221B/pseuds/Captain_Assbut_at_221B
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Baby

Baby had been through a lot. She had been crashed, burned, run over, flipped, and more than one head had been cut off on her hood. She had seen blood and death and darkness, run away from danger and toward more than she could remember. Baby, was more than just a car. She was a mother. She was a home. She was family. 

She still remembered Sal. Her easy, youthful, childhood years. He had driven her like a dream, gently and softly, like she was a treasure. She had liked Sal, how he handed out bibles to those who didn’t have one. It felt good, to be a carrier of the Word Of God. She was bringing hope to those that had none. And Sal was with her. 

When Sal died, she sat on that lot for a while. She thought about him sometimes, and she missed him. But when that young marine looked at her for the first time, she knew she had found something good. And with a little advice, he bought her. She still remembered the first time he drove her, revving her engine down the road. She liked John, with his calloused hands and his wide eyes, but she loved Mary. Mary, who first stashed salt in her trunk. Mary, who kept a gun under the baseboards. She was there for many moments. Their first kiss as a married couple, their first slow dance under the stars. She saw Mary make that deal with the yellow-eyed demon. She felt herself rock as Mary’s and John’s love brought Dean into existence. She felt Mary’s fingernails dig into her upholstery as they drove madly to the hospital. And she felt it again when Sam was born. 

She smelled wood smoke and sorrow the first time John sat in her after the fire, now a broken man. She was a bedroom for three little men, one broken, one blue, and one a babe. She served as a getaway car, a battering ram, and a school bus. She carried salt and fire and guns. She carried children. She carried a broken man and his boys. Her seats caught Sam’s tears. She shivered when they carved their names into her, but the pain was a good pain. She knew now that she was theirs. She loved the rattling hum of the LEGOS in her vents, the crammed army man in the ashtray. She missed Mary, so she took it upon herself to be a home for the boys without a home. She saw Dean’s first kiss, and she saw as he laid Margret Alton down in that backseat and made sweet love to her for the first time. She felt Sam’s first moment of ecstasy, when his lips met Mark Liam’s and he accepted that part of himself. She heard more fights than she cared to remember, and familial blood stained her seats. She felt John’s fists connect with his son’s faces. She saw them drink their first beers, make their first confessions, and shed a multitude of tears. 

She still remembered how much it hurt to be broken the first time. When that semi truck rammed them her heart burned with fear for the precious cargo she carried. She feared for them as she sat dormant on the lot, broken and demolished, still waiting for the loving hands she knew so well. Her body bled too when she learned about John’s death, losing that part of herself. She cried out inside when Dean took that crowbar to her, knowing that he had no other way to be broken. She forgave him when he murmured his apologies to her as he fixed her. She knew that they were her home too. 

She missed Sam when he left, and when Dean drove her to that crossroads, she knew what he was going to do. When Sam drove her after Dean fell, she missed the smell of whiskey and burgers, but she knew she had Sam. When Dean came back, she was happy inside to have her boys home. When she met Castiel, she loved him right away, the way he looked at her Dean. She knew that one day, they would understand. Her engine purred happily when they were together. Her heart cried out in pain when Lucifer, dressed as one of the boys she loved, threw Dean against her. And when Sam careened into the abyss, her loneliness matched Dean’s. She was afraid, when Dean parked her in the garage for a year, sometimes sitting inside, sometimes lying down in the backseat to try to forget what Sam looked like. 

Her heart rejoiced when they pulled her out once more, and once more she carried them, no matter how damaged, wherever they needed to go. When Castiel broke her and Dean repaired her and his broken heart, when they left her to fight the leviathans, when she saw the truth when Dean returned, nothing changed. She still loved them, and she watched them grow. She heard it, “I’d rather have you, cursed or not.” And in her heart she knew that Castiel loved him too. She longed for them back when Sam drove her after purgatory. She wished they would make up when they fought. And when after all the angels had fallen and all the world had imploded more times than she could count, and Dean sat in that seat and wept for the angel he had lost, she wept with him. And when he came back, and Dean laid him down for the first time in that backseat, her heart burst with joy. When Dean let Jack drive her down the highway, and her engine revved louder than ever before, her heart flew with the wind. When she was the home for two lonely boys, an angel, and a nephlim, she was happy. 

Baby had been through a lot. But nothing like this. She sat smoking and empty now, her windshield shattered, her body crumpled and crushed. There was blood on her seats. On the pavement below her, Jack was already gone. Castiel was burned out; his angel wings seared across the paint on her side and into Dean’s flesh. He was crying. Sam dragged himself across the ground, trying and failing once more to reach for his angel blade. Dean shook his head, dragging himself up onto baby’s side. “Sammy. No.” Sam looked at him and choked a little on his own blood. “Dean?” Dean smiled. “We’re done.” He patted the spot next to him gingerly. “Can you make it?” Sam moaned as he pulled himself a little further. He stopped and rolled over, the deep gash in his abdomen bleeding red. “I can’t Dean. I'm sorry.” Dean smiled. With a cry, he pulled himself to his feet, gushing a waterfall of blood. He stumbled a few feet and collapsed next to Sam. “It's okay. I can always come to you.” Sam reached out his enormous hand and Dean caught it. “You ready?” Sam nodded, his blue eyes welling with tears. “I'm ready.” Dean smiled. “See you on the other side Sammy.” Sam didn’t answer. His blue eyes stared without seeing. And Dean choked out a cry. “It's okay Sam. It’s okay. I’ll see you real soon.” He reached out his hand to the car. “See you later Baby.” And with one final ragged gasp, Dean Winchester left this world for good. 

Nobody found the bodies for almost a day. Four nobodies go missing, not really anyone cares. But when they did find them, there was no car. There were obvious tire tracks and five brutally stabbed bodies, but no car.

Back at the bunker, Mary washed the blood off of her hands. She had gotten there too late to save her boys. Too late for everything. Too late for anything but a quick death. That and a car. She looked at the mangled mess of a car. She remembered the smell of leather seats and the feel of John’s skin and the pain of birth. And she grabbed a wrench and a hammer, and she got to work. And Baby lived on.


End file.
